


brian may blurbs — smut

by laedymoonarchive



Category: Queen (Band)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-03
Updated: 2020-09-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:08:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26264725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laedymoonarchive/pseuds/laedymoonarchive
Summary: a collection of multiple smut blurbs/headcannons abt brian may
Relationships: Brian May & Reader, Brian May/You
Kudos: 11





	brian may blurbs — smut

**Author's Note:**

> \--- this is a repost of content originally published on my tumblr. i no longer use it and am slowly getting rid of my posts, so everything i've written is being archived here ---

**request: Either roger or Brian x reader where the reader is feeling a bit insecure with how they look esp the hip, thigh and belly area, so they reassure the reader and it’s just really cute??Love your writing btw!!!**

dating a rockstar has it’s drawbacks. from having to watch truckloads of groupies scream your boyfriends name, followed by all manner of profanities, to having your lives exploited and splashed across every trashy gossip magazine in the country, it’s not exactly a recipe for a non-tumultuous relationship.

but brian’s always been worth it. always been worth the anxiety the cameras that follow him everywhere cause you. worth the discomfort you derive from staring fans and critical reporters. lately, however, it’s been harder.

perhaps you’re just imagining it - brian certainly hasn’t mentioned anything. but, as you turn in front of the mirror, you can’t help but feel dissatisfied. _insecure_. which is just your fucking luck, because you’ve got to appear on some red carpet or another in no less than an hour.

the dress you’ve picked out is one of your favourites; black and silken and sexy, revealing enough but not entirely too much. slipping it on is usually a sure fire way to make you feel amazing. tonight, it’s not having its desired effect.

“you ready, love?” brian emerges from the bathroom, looking as dapper and dishy as ever in his dark suit and tie.

“mm.” you murmer, pulling the dress’s fabric away from your hips.

brian comes up behind you, adopting his usual stance - chin resting atop your head, hands wrapped around your waist. usually it comforts you to no end. now, his hands _there_ are making your skin crawl.

you squirm out of his grip, instead turning to press a kiss to the tip of his aquiline nose.

“are you alright?” brian furrows his brows as you continue to duck away from him.

“‘course.”

“then why aren’t i allowed to touch you?”

“don’t be daft.” you pick up one of brian’s large, elegant hands and place it on your shoulder.

“we’re not brother and fucking sister, y/n.” brian snorts, his hands dancing towards the curve of your hips. you twist away awkwardly, the cringe on your face evident.

“okay. what’s wrong?” brian huffs, though his eyes are gentle. you don’t say anything. you drop your gaze to the ground, smiling a little when you see brian’s ankles poking ever so slightly out the bottom of his pants. his legs are too long for almost anything to fit him properly.

after another beat of your silence, brian lifts your jaw gently to face him.

“you know i think you’re gorgeous?”

you nod.

“like, quite disconcertingly beautiful. everything about you.”

“everything.” you mutter. somehow you find that quite hard to believe.

“ _everything_.” brian enunciates, quirking his eyebrow as if asking permission to touch you. you nod in affirmation, and he replaces his soft grip on your waist.

“in fact…” he begins, bending before you at your go ahead, peppering kisses down your torso through the thin fabric of your dress. “i find your _everything_ to be quite the distraction at times.”

“l- _fuck_ -like when?” you gasp as brian lifts the hem of your dress, nipping at the soft skin of your thighs. his enthusiasm nullifies your insecurities, and you relax into him.

brian’s voice is muffled as he replies “like, when i’m due on a red carpet.”

“sounds important.” you exhale shakily, his mouth slowly making its way to where you’d like him most.

“not as important as you.”

\-------------

**request: Brian has a kink for people pulling his hair I just KNOW IT**

brian goes fucking nuts for having his hair pulled. the kinks you’ve already discovered —how he melts when you call him your pretty, good boy, how wild he it makes him when you suck hickies into the hollows of his collar bones— only emerged by chance, and this one’s much the same. and while you’ve always loved running your hands through his soft curls, it’s so far been nothing more than gentle traces on his scalp while you’re cuddled up in bed on lazy, post-coital sunday mornings.

it starts when you’re sitting around your usual table at your usual haunt, brian’s thigh pressed to yours in the crowded booth.

roger’s giving him shit for something that happened earlier at rehearsal, which he’s taking surprisingly good-naturedly. you lift your arm to rest an elbow on his shoulder fondly, fingers falling into his mass of curls.

brian’s responses become fewer and far between the more entangled your hands become, and _shit_ , are his eyes fluttering closed?

maybe you’re hurting him, but he’s too sweet to say so. you tug your hand from his hair. and he must feel it, because he jerks as you do, a soft moan escaping his pink lips.

that’s when you catch on. brian tugs at the crotch of his flares, clearing his throat and readjusting himself as subtly as he can. luckily the boys are too preoccupied by whatever outrageous thing that’s just come out of freddie’s mouth to notice. but you do.

on the car ride home, where you’re equally as compressed into roger’s car as you were in the booth, you decide to experiment. _make sure_.

it’s an innocent gesture, really, reaching up to coil one of his curls around your finger. the boys don’t seem to make anything of it. but brian does. his brown eyes widen, trained on your movements.

“please.” _god_ , he actually whimpers when you give his hair another tug. brian buries his head in the crook of his elbow and leans against the cool window beside him.

perhaps it’s mean of you, teasing him in such close proximity to his mates, getting him all flustered for the duration of the irritatingly meticulous trip. but you’re fascinated at how turned on he is —who fucking knew you could get his cock straining _painfully_ against his pants just by playing with his hair?

“there you go kids.” roger pulls the car to a halt outside of brian’s unit building.

brian stretches his long legs outside the door before roger can finish the sentence, the car almost shuddering with the force of him slamming it behind him.

“thanks rog.” you chuckle on behalf of your boyfriend.

“pleasure. now go fuck him, already.”

you slap the blonde playfully as you climb out of the car, taking a few quick strides to catch up with brian.

he’s already palming at his crotch by the time you reach him. fumbling with the keys with a frustrated whine.

“what’s gotten into you?” you take the keys from his hands and unlock the door.

he presses you against the wall with a kiss the moment you step into the hallway. “you.” he pants. he’s frustrated as anything —kissing you feverishly and grinding into your thigh.

“you mean this?” brian mewls with another pull to his hair. “like it when i pull your hair, pretty boy?”

“ _yeah_.” he says softly.

“bedroom, baby.” you nibble at his ear lobe. “and get rid of these.” you pinch the fabric of his pants and blazer between your fingers.

you chuckle as he eagerly obeys you, taking a second to shed your clothes slightly more elegantly before following him.

he’s already laid out on the bed for you, stroking his cock as delicately as he can with pained whimpers.

“fuck, baby.” brian’s hips buck desperately, as you resolutely lower yourself towards his chest. bluntly ignore his helplessly hard cock in favour of licking and sucking at his décolletage and tugging on his coiled strands.

“please.” brian begs as you finish your love bite with a kiss. “i promise i’ll be good.”

“i promise baby.” you select a new spot to stamp and brian whimpers. “i’ll let you fuck me soon. just want to mark you up a bit first.”

and you continue doing so until he’s squirming beneath you. a hard, flushed, whimpering mess.

“so good for me. such a good boy.” you praise when you finish. “want to be inside me now?”

brian nods desperately. “fuck, please baby.”

“how’d you want me to take your pretty cock bri?”

he mutters a curse as you _finally_ move towards his crotch.

“you want me to ride you? cum inside me while i pull your hair?” you press a chaste line of kisses along his happy trail.

“yes. _shit._ ” brian exhales.

you straddle him hastily, letting out a whimper of your own as his leaking tip nudges your slick folds. the two if you cry out in unison when you sink down on him, deliciously and perfectly filled.

brians eyes screw shut when you begin bouncing on top of him, tighter as you lean forward to reach for his curls.

“you’re so fucking tight baby.” brian whimpers. “‘m not gonna last.”

“it’s okay.” you pant, fast approaching your high. “c-cum for me bri.”

brian reels over the edge with a tug on his hair and a cry, cumming harder and longer than you’ve felt before. the sensation on your sensitive walls pulls you into an orgasm with a empassioned “ _fuck_ ”, twisting your hands into brian’s hair until your knuckles pale.

you come down, panting, reveling in the sight of brian’s seed dripping down your thighs and onto his toned stomach.

you make to climb off him, but brian grabs your wrist to hold you down. “no.” he mutters. “‘m too sensitive.”

“okay baby.” you breathe, steadying yourself against brian’s chest. “you were so good tonight.”

“can’t say the same for you, bloody minx.” he mutters.

you smile devilishly into his warm skin. “i don’t know what you mean love.”

“you know rog’s gonna give me endless shit for that tomorrow? probably gonna start pulling my hair everytime he wants to win an argument.” brian chuckles softly.

“it’d fucking work.”

brian must decide that he’s calmed down enough, because he grasps your hips in his big, elegant hands and lifts you off his cock. he hugs you to his side and tilts your jaw to look him in the eyes. “that’s exactly why i didn’t tell you.”

\-------------

**request: write literally anything sub!roger or sub!brian**

so we’ve written about sub brian before.

like, how insane it drives him when you tug on his coiled strands or run your nails gently over his scalp, or mutter how pretty he is while you nibble on the shell of his ear.

and when he’s in a mood, a _proper mood_ , he’s almost painfully easy to tease. like during weeks of constant rehearsal when the two of you barely get any time together. times like those, the slightest touch under the table at the pub with the boys has him begging you to take him home.

most of the time you’ll oblige. a pent up, moody and desperate bri almost always leads to some pretty epic shags. but occasionally, when you’re in a bit of a mood yourself, you can’t help but take advantage of the situation.

sometimes you’ll ignore him squeezing your thigh and whispering _can we please go_ into your ear. instead you’ll release his cock -painfully hard- from it’s constraints as discreetly as you can. you’ll give him long, languid strokes under the pub table. he’ll stifle his whimpers into your shoulder, his cheeks flushed and lips bitten while you listen intently to roger whining about shitty college bands hogging their rehearsal space.

you’ll slow your motions just before he can release over your palm and wipe your hand on the leg of his velvet trousers. brian grabs at your hands, rutting his hips under the table, eyes wide with the desperate need to reel over the edge.

 _later_ , you’ll mouth to him. _if you’re good._

\-------------

**request: Dom bri !!!!**

i’m in the middle of a fairly long blurb/ficlet about brian finding his dominant side but i’ve still got a couple of asks about the concept and a few ideas. _so_ i’m going to do this as a little hc for soft dom bri, and the other dom bri request as an hc for _dom_ dom bri.

  * with those big hands and that low, cadenced voice, it was fairly clear to you from the first time you and brian fucked that he’d be a dom. maybe he hadn’t even quite realised himself, but you picked up on the subtleties. 
  * perhaps he squeezes your hips a little tighter than you’ve experienced before. his hand finds its way to being lazily slung around your neck. an occasional _good girl_ escapes his lips. and it drives you _fucking crazy_. 
  * when you finally decide to address it, because really, _you want more_ , he blushes profusely. his first instinct is to apologise because _shit, he didn’t realise_ and _he’s sorry, was he hurting you?_
  * but you wave away his concerns, tell him that he’s giving you what you never even _fucking knew_ you wanted. 
  * and sure, it takes a little encouraging for him to be completely assured he’s not harming you when his long fingers lace around your throat, and that you do in fact love it when he fucks your mouth like there’s no tomorrow. 
  * but eventually it gets to the stage where remembering his initial apprehension makes you giggle as you tease him over it.
  * and of course, he assures you he’ll make you forget how gentle he ever was, pushing his long digits between your lips before slipping them into your panties, encouraging your moans with soft “ _good girl”s_ as you come all over his hand.



\-------------

**request: please,,,dom!bri,,..,, get me out of this desert,,,extreme thirst**

i too am in a desert of thirst for dom bri, so i yeeted this up the request queue to save both of us

  * dom brian is all about the hands
  * and i mean, with _hands like those_ , how could you blame him?
  * he knows what they can do to you, and he loves to tease you with them
  * draping his elegant fingers around your throat, long enough to encircle it completely
  * grasping your thighs under the table until you’re whimpering into his shoulder, leaving you stamped in red hand prints that cover your entire arse
  * watching him on stage drives you mad - seeing his fingers plucking deftly and delicately at his guitar strings while knowing what they can do to you
  * knowing how many times you’ve come undone with them pumping relentlessly in and out of you
  * how many times you’ve moaned into his shoulder as they pinned you up against a bathroom stall door or speaker in the back of the recording studio…




End file.
